I Heart Soccer Moms

Monday morning, I met my friend for a cup of coffee at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf on the corner of Laurel Canyon and Ventura before we both headed to our mutual place of employment. I'm always intrigued by the people I see at this place... I'm usually there when there's a rush: weekday mornings, everyone blindly in line for any drug that will get them through the first four hours of their morning. And of course, in Los Angeles (more appropriately, The Valley), everyone's work outfit is different. Usually I see a few people dressed similar to myself: comfortable jeans, comfortable shirt, comfortable shoes. I also see Business People, with important folders overflowing with important documents, late for important meetings, buying important lattes.

Now these people don't surprise me. The people that surprise me are the people sitting outside at the tables at 8:30 on a weekday morning, seemingly with nothing better to do than to come to the CBTL in Studio City. Do these people work? Are they actors? I don't get these people.

I saw a new breed of people at the CBTL this past Monday. I'm a people-watcher by nature; my eyes scan every crowd. I strode into the CBTL, head up, friend at my side, and I saw five women, all between 32 and 38. One of them was half-minding a three year old boy who was coloring. As I walked by, I heard one of them say, "When Jeffrey was born..." My heart started beating a wee bit faster as I realized what this pack was: a Mommy Group.

These weren't just any mommies. These were sexy mommies. These women were beautiful. They were LA moms with busy schedules but a lot of love for their children. Stay-at-home moms who come to CBTL when they can get a sitter for a morning.

I don't know what it is about women who are mothers that is so attractive to me. I'm attracted to women older than myself - their confidence, their perspective, the beginnings of little lines around their eyes. But you put a kid into that mix... you give me a beautiful woman who is also a good mom... forget about it. I don't know if it's because I want to be a mom myself... or maybe it's because these moms are so different from the midwestern moms I grew up knowing... whatever it is, these women were HOT (and straight), and to be honest, if there were a group of hot lesbians standing next to these moms, I would have been still staring at the moms.

Is that bad?

Surfing

"why do people learn how to surf? they get bruised, busted, beaten by the ocean, but when they finally learn, it's heaven."

that's what chrissie said to me in our middle-of-the-day two hour phone conversation (love that free mobile-to-mobile... they NEVER stop working for us!) as i choked back tears, circling around the answer to my current girl problem. i was running errands for work and we chatted the whole time, about love, politics, girls, the EX factor, fire extinguishers, fires, babysitters and marriage (gay AND straight, successful ones AND those that end in murders). i'm grateful for her... she's a good listener and a loyal girl.

in any case, her surfing reference was typical coming from her, yet beautiful because she knows. she surfs. and she's been in love. and it made sense. it's an audition, and practice makes perfect, and as sandra bernhard says: "i always love very deeply"... and something about learning to love stronger and deeper with each relationship. (exact quote to come)

i'm the girl who always says to her friends, "things happen for a reason. people come in and out of your life for very specific reasons at very specific times." and i get that, and it's easy to say. what's not easy is tempting fate in such a way where you risk losing out, with the persistent underlying doubt that you might be making a mistake.

it's trite. i know, you don't have to tell me.

maybe i cut out the love factor completely and return to that girl i was before i ever fell in love: passionate about so many OTHER things... film, theater, writing, friends. i'm fine on my own. i just miss her. that's it. i wonder if it's nostalgia and the cinematic "romance" of our story... a feeling that causes me to scream, "this CAN'T be how this ENDS."

i'm going to ignore it for a while and concentrate on the election. gotta have SOMETHING to piss me off at least once a day.

Where the I-15 meets the 79...

i went to pechanga this weekend. i have no issue giving them bad publicity. a good friend of mine sticks to the idea that if you're gonna gamble, you go to vegas. i naively believed the billboards: "Vegas Fun close to home!" first off, it's NOT close to home. unless your home is temecula. and who lives in temecula? secondly, the comparing pechanga to vegas is like comparing... well, i can't think of what it's like comparing, but that's not the point. you lose money in both places. but at pechanga, you're not really having any fun.

there were TWO five dollar black jack tables in the whole casino. i waited 20 minutes to lose $60. the dealer was an asshole, and seemed very new. he kept trying to be cool with the cards and kept fumbling. he didn't have patience for new players at the table, and wasn't offering any help. the dealers in vegas want you to win. this guy didn't want you to win. you would have thought he was playing with his own money.

the ONE good thing about the casino is that they have a non-smoking section. but that's it. the drinks aren't free, the waitresses aren't cute, and the people aren't interesting.

on a better note, i heard a song today by an artist i had never heard of, and as luck would have it, she's singing at the Hotel Cafe this friday. i loved the song... and will be at the show for sure, before hitting the abbey for what promises to be a night of note.

i love the fall.

Life in the South Bay

last night, we went to a benefit for an organization called SurfRider (surfrider.org). they help keep the beaches clean and pretty. the benefit was at sharkeez on the hermosa pier. can we pause for a moment and reflect on how many beautiful people live in the LA area? i think they were all there last night.

after a pitcher of beer for me and a pitcher of beer for my girl-friend (friend that's a girl), we headed a little north to manhattan beach to hang at her place for a spell. we then hit the sharkeez in manhattan beach to see more beautiful people and drink a little more beer. we didn't find the girl we were looking for, but we DID see the incredibly cute waitress who had been at the HB sharkeez helping to save the beach, now at the MB sharkeez continuing in her persistent quest to keep our beaches clean. we fell in love with her... and of course, she broke our hearts. it was a whirlwind romance.

LV

every day of my life, i learn more and more how fucking great it is to be here. oh sure, sometimes it sucks: sometimes the marrow of your soul is sucked dry by unknown forces and you can't remember smiling or laughing or even crying... feeling... and all you can do is sleep because "god has made sleep so it erases every thought"... but then there are other days. those days when the sun is doing what you want it to do and you're with someone you love... not in a i'm-in-love-with-you-and-am-sad-because-i-can't-fuck-you sort of way, but in a i'm-amazed-by-you-more-every-minute-and-am-blessed-to-have-you-as-a-friend sort of way... and you're with him, or her, and you're in a mustang convertible driving through the desert, listening to music really loud, music in the cd player and music you're making up as you go, lyrics that make no sense but make you laugh like you're five years old again... and you feel connected, loved, cherished, happy, needed. and you realize that your broken heart that you were forced to deal with only three months ago had a purpose, and had your heart not been broken, you wouldn't be in this mustang convertible with this beautiful girl and this beautiful guy, driving through the desert, making up music as you go. it wouldn't be this hot, the sun wouldn't be setting this minute, and your eyes wouldn't be welling up with tears at the thought of what could have been and what might yet come to be. and that's what it is. life. i mean, there it is, right? it's that sunset, those tears, that $200, that surfer girl with the long blonde hair, freckles, and suspicious confidence, that michigan guy with a heart as warm as a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie, that mustang, those sunflower seeds, that dancing queen, those leather seats, that cowboy hat, those silly songs, those shared memories, those snapshots of brilliance, that beautiful cocktail waitress, O'S, IP, and all the other things you say... that's it, right? despite the things that happen to me, despite their seemingly ficticious beginnings or similarities, my life is not a movie. i see it often from behind the lens... a wide shot of a girl in a bar, making people laugh, a cute girl hugging her... but it's here, i'm living it. it gets crazy, but it's never scripted, and my expectations will continually fade into a realm with which i'll never be familiar. it's freeing... it will open me to a world i've been living in but haven't believed. it will make me sit with my heartache just as i revel in my happiness. i'm ready for the rest of it.